Jealousy
by Maiden of the Moon
Summary: In every person’s life, there are times when all they’ve ever wanted was there in front of them, itching to be had. But these moments, he knew, were not there to inspire. Rather, they were there to rub all of one’s failures into their face. A Wedding Fic.


_Disclaimer:_ Why do you have to rub it in?

_Author's Note:_ Andrew, I hope this elevates your boredom for a few minutes. ;3

**XXX**

**Jealousy**

**XXX**

In every person's life, there are times when all they've ever wanted is right there in front of them, just itching to be grabbed. Times when a dream just dances there, a finger's length away, taunting loudly… times when one's desire is physically palpable, so close they could snatch it. But these moments—as he'd discovered through experience—were not there to inspire. Rather, they were there to rub all of a person's shortcomings into their face, and to make them silently writhe with jealousy.

This, without a doubt, was one of those times.

Standing amidst the jostling crowd, hands casually in his pockets and face pinched down in a musing scowl, the young man surveyed the scene of colorful dresses and smart black tuxes before him. Everyone was smiling and crying, shouting cheerfully and laughing as they awaited their turn to congratulate the newly married couple.

Everyone but him. His lips pursed.

He hated him, sometimes, that bastard. How was it that he had everything _he_ wanted, absolutely everything, and never even seemed to try? He was the hottest name in the pokémon world, having ranked 3rd at the World Championship just last week—a huge step to becoming a Pokémon Master. (He hadn't even made it into the finals; his rank was now hanging precariously at #18.) Whenever anyone spoke to Professor Oak about his most experienced, most talented, all-around-favorite Pallet Town trainer, it was that jerk's name he instantly offered. (Perhaps that was only because of their close relationship, and dammit—he detested him for that, too.) Then there were his pokémon themselves: for the most part, they weren't the rarest (though the dimwit had apparently had plenty of adventures during which he'd met the most legendary of the creatures; Pokémon so rare he knew _he'd_ only ever see them in sketches), but they were the best cared for in the business. He'd already sold books on how to raise Pokémon—_bestsellers_— that were full of instructions and advice that he, in all of his travels, had never once thought of. _Basic tips_ that had never occurred to him, not even in daydreams!

And then there was this: the wedding. The cherry on top. Just looking at the happy couple made him sick— the love and devotion shining in their eyes as they stole quick glances between hearty "Thanks for coming!"s and "How have you been?"s. He couldn't understand how his rival had been so lucky; it was maddening. How was it that the fool had met The One without even batting an eyelash, yet he—who'd been constantly surrounded by women for years!—couldn't find a single decent soul within the bunch? While he plowed through relationship after relationship, only ever finding girls who desired his power, that jerk made the rarest catch of all: a girl who's only desire was to be with him.

And that, that more than anything else, made his heart ache with envy.

Beside him, his small pokémon nudged his leg, pulling him from his thoughts and urging him forward. He blinked, startled as he noticed his surroundings: without meaning to, he'd joined the queue—and crap, it was his turn. In the back of his mind, he began to wonder what the hell he was doing here; maybe it wasn't too late to escape— but no. He braced himself as the groom turned towards him, hand outstretched for a good shaking. "Hey, it's good to—!"

For the first time in years, their gazes met. He couldn't help but snicker as the other man froze, arm half-raised, gawking in obvious surprise; clearly he hadn't expected to see him. Ironic, really—he hadn't planned to show up. But such thoughts faded as memories flit behind their eyes, and the feel of old enmity swelled within their chests: nostalgic of their days of childhood. For the briefest of moments he wondered if his rival was going to act on those recollections, but no: they were adults now, mature and world-worn. More than that, this was a wedding—and he had something important to say.

His frowning mouth curled into a small, but genuine smile.

"Congratulations, man," he murmured, clapping the stunned groom on the shoulder. He winked at the blushing redhead beside him, who laced her hand through her new husband's and beamed in return. "You win."

Initially, the words seemed to confuse the other. But after a pause, Ash understood— and he grinned like the lucky bastard he was, tightening his fingers around his bride's.

"Thanks, Gary."

**XXX**


End file.
